


Twitter ficlets

by dharma_club



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:42:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 6,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22978576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dharma_club/pseuds/dharma_club
Summary: Short ficlets published on my twitter. These include:1. Kerf/JT/Willy, Sex Pollen (in the showers!)2. Auston/Justin Bieber3. Dylan/Mitch, Fingering4. Freddie/Mitch, Accidental Stimulation (Tattoo Artist AU)5. Kyle/Willy, Restraint6. Zach/Willy, First Time7. Dylan/Mitch, First Kiss8. Willy/Tyson9. Mitch/Willy, Spellwork10. Freddie/Mitch, clubbing + vouyerism11. Kyle/Kerfy, losing 6-312. Auston/Willy, great expectations13. Zach/Willy/Travis, step into my office14. Jamie/Tyler, post-apocalyptic future15. Zach/Willy, teachers au
Relationships: Auston Matthews/Justin Bieber, Auston Matthews/William Nylander, Frederik Andersen/Mitch Marner, Jamie Benn/Tyler Seguin, John Tavares/Alexander Kerfoot/William Nylander, Kyle Dubas/Alexander Kerfoot, Kyle Dubas/William Nylander, Mitch Marner/Dylan Strome, Mitch Marner/William Nylander, Tyson Barrie/William Nylander, Zach Hyman/William Nylander, Zach Hyman/William Nylander/Travis Dermott
Comments: 5
Kudos: 68





	1. Kerf/JT/Willy, Sex Pollen (in the showers!)

“Fuck.” Willy groans across the room. Alexander doesn’t really have the energy to deal with it. They had a good time on the ice, just their line staying back and trying out a few of the drills, but his head is throbbing now and he really just want to be done with this shower and get home. Maybe slide into bed and rub one out. Will makes another aborted sound and Alexander sighs, turning the tap off. 

“Will?” Alexander asks when he finally spots Willy. He’s leaning against the wall, head tilted up towards the spray.

“Hey there, liney.” Willy smiles, turning to focus on him, bright and dopey. He feels off.

“Will?” Alexander asks again, concerned and a little freaked out. He holds Willy’s face up, trying to look into his pupils. 

“Hi, Kerf.” Willy giggles and bites his lower lip coyly. He slides his hands up Alexander’s arms, reaching to play with the hair on Alexander’s nape. Alexanders doesn’t even know how or when they ended up this close enough to each other to do that. He plans on protesting, or leaning away, except his mouth is suddenly meeting Willy’s and Alexander feels hungry.

Willy tastes sweet, almost syrupy, and Alexander needs more of it. Willy arches his body into his and Alexander lets his cock rub over Willy’s wet stomach. It feels like the room is closing on them, all his senses focusing on chasing more of this feeling.

So Alexander runs his tongue over Willy’s lips, and then inside with mouth, chasing more and more of that sweetness. He isn’t planning to stop, his hips rubbing against Willy with more urgency, but he jumps a little when another warm body covers him from behind.

It feels good, and Alexander wants to lean back into it, let whoever it is take his weight and touch him all over until he comes.

“What’s going on?” John asks and Alexander is so content it’s him, so he leans his head back until John is kissing him instead.

John tastes different but similar, but before Alexander can place it he takes more control of the kiss, grabbing Alexander’s hair painfully. Only is doesn’t hurt at all, just makes him reach out and draw Willy closer to himself. 

“John.” Willy whimpers when John lets Alexander breathe, needy and breathless and so John draws Willy closer to himself until he can kiss him too. Alexander watches, enthralled, biting appreciatively when he seems John is biting Willy’s lips instead of kissing them. 

“Do you want Alexander to fuck you?” John asks Willy, but his eyes are staring at Alexander. 

It should be impossible for John to even string a sentence together, if he’s feeling anything remotely similar to the sheer need coursing through Alexander’s veins, but here he is, whispering dirty nothings into Willy’s ear. 

“Yes,” Willy groans, desperate, hands now running over both Alexander’s and John’s body. “Please, Johnny, I need it now.”

“Hush.” John tells him and Willy silences, bites his own lip again and Alexander wants to help him, so leans in to kiss him again, letting John manoeuvre their bodies as he tastes Willy’s sweet mouth again and again until he is desperate and drunk with it.

The cool tile is a welcome distraction against Alexander’s back as John helps Willy wrap his legs around Alexander’s waist. Willy is almost delirious, cock red and desperate between their bodies.

Alexander doesn’t know how they got here. “John,” he starts saying, searching for John’s eyes, but then Willy is sinking on his cock, tight and breathless and Alexander forgets everything. 

Willy takes him beautifully, nothing but a sharp pleased moan coming out of him when Alexander is fully inside him. 

Alexander breathes in the sweat air around them and lets himself go.


	2. Auston Matthews/Justin Bieber

Justin walks into the dressing room like it’s the most natural thing, the team’s media person and his own PA following him with their phones out like they’re afraid to miss any movement or sound he makes. Auston is already a ball of nerves, so seeing him both helps a lot and really doesn’t help at all. 

Justin beelines towards him, gets a fist bump from Tyson and a quick hug from Mitch before reaching Auston, and Auston guesses it would be weird if he wasn’t at last that friendly. So he leans in for a hug but tries to keep it short and casual, just two guys saying hi.. 

“Good game, man.” Justin smiles up at him, the corners of his lips lifting just a little and Auston wants to kiss him right there, wants it so so bad, everyone and everything else be damned. 

“Thanks, man.” He says instead, tilting his head down until Justin is forced to meet his eyes.

Auston told him before the game, just to make sure he didn’t chicken out. “I’m going to tell them if we win.” He whispered softly, and just hummed on the other side of the line.

They stand like that, staring at each other and grinning like idiots, in the middle of the dressing room at the Scosh, the staff and team getting ready to leave around them. It’s weird how no one ever thinks to poke or doubt their friendship, Auston has literally wore Justin’s name on him 

“You got plans?” Willy interrupts, raising an eyebrow, his suit already back on and his bag slung across his shoulder. He’s being an asshole and they all know it, but it’s not even embracing by now, just nice - another way to validate Justin is a weird but real part of his life. 

They do have plans. Dinner and then hopefully going back to Justin’s, it’s less private with the endless number of people he has hanging around, but Auston’s family is staying with him and he’s not quite ready for that. He also kind of wants the freedom to make some noise. And Justin’s jacuzzi is far superior. 

“Yeah,” he says simply and Willy nods knowingly.

Auston doesn’t know exactly what Justin sees in him. Sure, the professional athlete thing scores some points with certain people, but it’s not like Justin can’t have literally any breathing person on the planet, male or female. The fact he likes Auston, likes him for more than just a few hookups or even hanging out, it’s not something Auston ever expected to have. He’s still, and probably will always be, a little in awe of it. 

“You’re like a man version of Hailey.” Justin laughed once, orgasm-drunk and fingers still tangled in Auston’s sweaty hair. And usually it would be weird, to be compared to the wife of the guy whose dick he was just enthusiastically sucking, but Auston gets it, he thinks. 

Justin doesn’t say I love you. Instead he gets sneakers sent to Auston’s apartment, or he buys bottle service for him and the team at some stupid LA club when the team is laying the Kings, or he flies to Toronto for one night, just to make sure Auston isn’t alone when he comes out to his parents.. 

Speaking of– “I thought you were with my parents?” Auston asks.

“They're on their way to the restaurant, they said they’d meet us there.” Justin shrugs. 

“You want to wait?” Auston asks, surprised. Justin usually hates waiting for Auston, or for anyone, always on the move. Auston is pretty sure he’s afraid that any idle moment is a moment where someone might ask for a photo or an autograph, so he keeps going forward at all times, full speed ahead. Auston doesn’t think he gets stopped by fans nearly as much, but he still can relate. 

“Maybe.” Justin winks, a little audacious and a lot of teasing, so Auston chuckles despite himself. Justin just shakes his head, reproachful. “I meant it, it was a good game.”

“Yeah.” Auston agrees, mulling over everything that means for him, for them. It’s huge and scary and Alexandra is going to shriek herself hoarse later when Justin is no longer there to see her try and be all cool. And his parents. They’re going to be fine, probably. They always taught him to aim higher than seemed possible, and if he has to bring home a guy, at least he’s bringing home Justin Bieber, right?

“You don’t -,” Justin starts saying but Auston shaken his head. 

“No I want to. Okay, give me a second to get dressed.” Auston smirks. “Go sign a hat for Hutch or something.”


	3. Dylan/Mitch, Fingering

“Baby,” Dylan sighs in disappointment, stilling his fingers for what feels like the eighth time to Mitch. 

It’s been fucking twenty minutes and Mitch is unhinged, completely and utterly undone. Dylan’s been fucking him with two long fingers, refusing to give him anything more, stopping whenever Mitch gets too desperate and rubs his cock against the bed beneath him.

Dylan withdraws and then jabs his fingers sharply inside him with a twist and Mitch lets out a sob escape, rocking his hips forward almost involuntarily. 

“God, please, Dyl.” He tries begging, but Dylan just pushes his shoulders further into the bed with his other hand and completely removes his fingers making Mitch keen at the loss of it. 

“Stay there, Mitchy.” Dylan tells him, and Mitch does, tries to be still and raise his ass higher for Dylan. 

“Fuck fuck fuck,” He mutters, high pitch and desperate, almost shaken with how empty he suddenly feels.

“You come on my fingers or you don’t come,” Dylan reminds him, his harsh voice a direct contrast to the way he’s gently petting Mitch’s side. 

“Dylan,” Mitch whines. 

“Okay, okay,” Dylan huffs out, almost exasperated, but Mitch doesn’t care because Dylan’s fingers are back, and he’s not playing around this time, just driving them into Mitch’s prostate in fast hard strokes that leave Mitch shaking. 

He’s clutching at the bedspread, trying to keep his up for Dylan despite feeling lightheaded and completely rattled to the core. Every time Dylan touches that spot inside him it jolts a chain reaction, making Mitch feel like he’s being spasmed, his nerves droning with please and his ears ringing so hard he can’t even hear what Dylan is saying to him or the pleas and curses coming out of his own mouth. 

His mind and body are in a frenzy and nothing matters except the way Dylan is ruthlessly fucking him with his fingers now, unyielding and perfect and Mitch can’t take it anymore. 

He might scream when he comes, he’s not even sure, just let’s go and trust Dylan take care of him.


	4. Freddie/Mitch, Accidental Stimulation (Tattoo Artist AU)

Freddie’s 4pm didn’t start great since the dude, Mitch, has spent the first ten minutes talking animatedly about his existing tattoos and boy, did Freddie want to send him some wikipedia links and never hear Mitch’s tragically wrong opinions about ancient Greece ever again. But then Mitch switched the subject to Freddie’s thighs and how big they were.

It’s a quick one just a simple outline of two crossed hockey sticks on Mitch’s left ass cheek. 

“I lost a bet,” Mitch explains, getting comfortable on his side and skimming his sweats even lower. 

Freddie just hums agreeably and gets to work, the sound of the machine a lulling, comforting buzz as he concentrates. 

He’s almost done when Mitch starts breathing shallowly, muscles tense, and Freddie can’t help but notice how tightly he holds himself. It’s distracting. 

“Are you okay?” Freddie asks, stopping. “We can take a break if you need.”

“No, I,” Mitch laughs. “I’m fine.”

But when Freddie tries to continue Mitch jumps immediately, and not even from the gun - Freddie just touched him to hold the skin a little more comfortably. 

Sorry,” Mitch quips and Freddie rolls his eyes. Mitch is most definitely not fine, he’d bet this was Mitch’s first tattoo with how skittish he’s being, if he hadn’t seen the counter evidence himself.

“Can you hold still for just a little longer?” He says, as patiently as he can, though it comes out more growly than he meant. “We’re almost done.”

“Yeah, a few minutes.” 

“Okay, stay still and I’ll make it better.” Freddie tries to be soothing.

“Okay.” Mitch answers, breathless and muffled. 

Both of them sigh in relief when Freddie is done without any incident, but Mitch practically starts shaking when Freddie tries to put the antibacterial cream on the newly inked skin.

“Shit.” He can hear Mitch curse followed by a half moan, half laugh following, high-pitched and whiney. 

“Listen, Mitch,” Freddie starts and then he notices the way Mitch is leaning forward onto the table, trying to hide his crotch and it clicks.

Mitch is cute, and Freddie did not forget the comment about his thighs, so he presses further, works the cream into the red skin a little more intentionally until Mitch is making short, abrupt moans on every breath. Freddie sneaks a peek and it looks like Mitch is definitely hard, a wet patch forming on the front of his briefs. . 

“Are you getting off on this?” Freddie asks, smirking.

“Yeah,” Mitch laughs, going a little red. “I swear I didn’t know I would, man. I would’ve warned you. You’re just, you know. You were touching my ass a lot. And you like, have really big hands.”

“Gonna touch it some more,” Freddie says, pushing his thumb harder into the meat of Mitch’s ass, right by where the ink is decorating his skin. 

“Oh, fuck.” Mitch moans louder.


	5. Kyle/Willy, Restraint

It’s tight. Tighter than Kyle’s ever tied it before, cutting into Will’s skin like a constant reminder of where he is, who he is with. In some way the rope is just another way for Kyle to hold him, a way for him to help Will be good and please Kyle.

It feels like he’s been there forever, kneeling with his hands bound tightly behind his back and his thighs forced open and tied to his ankles. Every single breath he takes is reminding him of the thick cords against his chest, every time he tries to gain a little bit of balance he is reminded his legs are ties to Kyle’s desk. 

Kyle’s been working on the sofa all this time, head bent over some stupid documents. Will wants to look at him and keen for attention, moan like the slut he is until Kyle is forced to get up and punish Will. But that’s not what Kyle wants and so Will stays where he is, tied and placed on Kyle’s desk, forced to wait and be good. 

Will can hear Kyle get up from the sofa and he can’t help the way his heart rate picks up. He wants to close his legs, wants to spread them wider, wants Kyle’s cock in him, and Kyle’s hands on his skin, he wants, and wants, and wants until he is nothing but need and energy, Kyle’s to do with as he pleases. 

Kyle runs his hand through Will’s hair and Will strains to lean into it, eager for Kyle to touch him. 

But Kyle isn’t interested and instead he yanks him by the hair, forcefully tilting Will’s head up until he has to meet his eyes.

“You look pretty.” Kyle says, just some dispassionate, simple appraisal, and Will can feel his cheeks go red.


	6. Zach/Willy, First Time

Truth be told, Zach was sure Willy was joking when he told him he was a virgin because of Willy’s whole _everything_. Zach strongly subscribes to the opinion that virginity is a social construct, but it also probably means a lot to someone if they purposefully abstain from sex until they’re 23. So he tries to make Willy’s first time special, except– 

“Isn’t this a little tacky?” Willy asks, suspiciously eyeing the rose petals on the bed. 

“I thought it would be nice,” Zach insists. 

“You’re kind of dumb,” Willy sighs, but he’s still smiling, plasters himself against Zach and tilts his head up to be kissed. 

Zach obliges, his hand gently holding Willy’s jaw in place, trying to stop the kiss from turning too filthy too fast.

“Let me,” he says when Willy starts undressing. 

It’s easy to push Willy onto the bed and slowly take his clothes off, let himself discover Willy’s soft skin bit by bit with his hands and then with his mouth. 

Willy starts breathing faster when Zach touches his ass, makes small sweet sounds when Zach reaches in with lubed fingers. 

“Zach.“ Willy moans after Zach spent long minutes scissoring two fingers inside of him. They’ve never gone more than two and Zach can’t help how much he appreciates the trust Willy has in him at this very moment, how honored he feels to get to do this. 

Willy takes three fingers like he was made to be fucked, hips moving restlessly as his body opens for Zach. He’s arching his back, like he’s trying to impale himself on Zach’s fingers as he bites his lips, trying to quiet his own desperate sounds. 

Zach is super careful when fingering Willy, taking extra time to make sure. 

“Ready?” Zach asks, breathless as he puts a condom on himself.

“Come on,“ Willy moans, rubbing his ass against his dick. “I’ve been waiting for forever.”

Zach bites down on scolding him for being impatient and just pushes into him, slow and measured, making sure there’s not a trace of discomfort or pain on Willy’s face. 

There isn’t, but his hand flies to cover his own cock when Zach finds his prostate on a deep thrust. 

“Oh, god.” Willy sighs when Zach repeats the same motion and Zach can’t help but smile, a little proud and a lot smitten.

Willy’s eyes are closed and his mouth is open, lips puffy and bitten red. He keeps arching off the bed, trying to meet Zach’s thrusts, trying to get Zach to move faster. “God, come one.” Willy groans. “Give me more.”

Zach just runs a soothing hand over his side. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers, bending down for a kiss, except Willy bites at his lip two seconds into it. 

“Fuck.” Zach mutters, looking down. Willy’s eyes are open down, pupils gone completely black and he’s moving more purposefully on Zach’s dick and that’s really not how Zach wanted his first time to go, so he does the only thing he can and pins Willy’s hips to the bed with his hands, pushing him into the mattress. 

“Yes, yes, please. This. Just.” Willy chants under his breath, hips still moving in aborted movement, his hair plastered to his forehead and Zach needs to take a moment to brace himself so he doesn’t ruin it. 

“What?” Zach groans, he feels like he’ll go mad like this, trying to control himself while Willy is being that needy and demanding. 

“Stop being cute and fucking fuck me.” Willy growls, meeting Zach’s eyes. 

And well, Zach thinks, it’s up to Willy to decide how he wants his first time to go.


	7. Dylan/Mitch, First Kiss

The thing is. The absolute worst thing is. Mitch kind of has their first kiss on video. 

It’s so fucking stupid, just a video of three snapchats one after another that he screenshot back when he didn’t think about things like leaking or what it would mean having this sort of evidence out there. How it could hurt Dylan as much as it’d hurt him to have people know. 

It’s been almost five years and Mitch keeps expecting to wake up one day and just not care, for it not to hurt that much. He looks at that stupid video at least once a week, though, maybe more sometimes. 

The first snapchat is Dylan waiting for Mitch by some stupid security spot and filming himself bitching at being stood up.Mitch still distinctly remembers Dylan was just early and annoyed, waiting for Mitch to show up so they could sneak off and talk to calm each other down before getting drafter. 

He remembers telling Dylan he needs to see him, and Dylan just saying yes and calming to meet him. Dylan always said yes, and Mitch feels guilty about it now, recognises how manipulative and needy it was. But Dylan still always came. 

The third snapchat is just an embarrassing photo of Davo getting ink all over his hands while signing autographs from the day after the draft. Dylan wrote 1ST OVERALL 🤣🤣 below it. 

Mitch doesn’t even know why he kept it, but it felt important, felt like proof that they were still friends, even after. It was a reminder that the aftermath wasn’t immediate, that even if they weren’t close now it wasn’t stepping away from whatever had always been fizzing and cracking in the air between them that did it. It wasn’t Mitch’s fault. Or if it was, it wasn’t just his. 

The kiss is tucked in between them. It’s not the full kiss, it doesn’t include how Dylan dropped his phone to run his fingers through Mitch’s hair, eyes full of wonder. It does show Mitch cupping Dylan’s face, terrified and shaking from the magnitude of what he was feeling. 

It doesn’t include Mitch stepping away and saying stop. Saying no. That’s probably for the best. 

No, It’s just a weird video of both of them looking at the camera, two stupid wide grins, so sure they were about to take the world by storm, almost invincible. They’re talking over each other, boastful and naive, no even understanding it doesn’t matter if you go third or sixth or tenth, but it that moment still changes your entire life. 

In the snap Mitch calls Dylan an asshole and Dylan leans forward as Mitch back. 

They’re silent for a second, just staring at each other, before it switches to Connor and his idiotic ink accident.


	8. Willy/Tyson

It’s a surprise to no one that Tyson fits in. The NHL isn’t that big after all, and there are rumors everywhere about everyone - you don’t need to be a superstar for every guy around the league to know whose dick you’ve been sucking in the dressing room, and Tyson is more visible than most. Tyson has this vibe that William not only appreciates, but totally recognizes as mirroring his own, like that stupid spiderman meme. Tyson laughs when he tells him that.

“EJ calls it chaotic twink energy,” he says, face serious and continues to explain how his weird long distance relationship with Gabriel Langeskog works now. 

William has both kept a long distance relationship in the league and had the pleasure of getting fucked by Gabe once or twice (hey, what happens in Bratislava doesn’t always stay in Bratislava, okay?) so it’s not like he can pretend he doesn’t fully get it. 

Life was simple before Tyson got traded to the Leafs and his freakish good Candaian boy politeness made William all self-conscious and reevaluate some stuff. 

“Thank you, man,” Tyson smiles at him, all goofy and wobbly, as William gets back up, wiping his mouth as discreetly as he can after spitting onto the floor. Swallowing is for better people than William and Tyson looks pretty cheerful anyway. So no harm done. William looks at the goofy look on Tyson’s face and can’t help but want to chirp him - he blames Tyson’s earnestness and the winning and the way his erection is still kind of prominent on his mind.

“You’re welcome, you weirdo,” he laughs, kissing Tyson on the cheek before the other man turns his head to slot their mouths together.

It’s pretty sweet, as kisses go, William’s tempted to just get it over with and lean into Tys and just rub one against the wet, warm skin of his abs. It’s inviting, but he also kind of wants to go and find Zach and Auston, it’s like a buzz under his skin. Need and hunger, but not the way it sounds, it’s not sharp or desperate, just this constant ache that he knows will be quieted the moment he can get Auston or Zach touching him. Preferably both of them. 

Tyson cuts that thought by gently biting William on his bottom lip. Just bratty and attention grabbing. William shakes his head.

“I’m good,” he says, and Tyson lets him go. 

Zach and Auston are already at their respective stalls, dressed and ready to go, making eyes at each other over JT’s head. Zach is extremely sweet, and Auston is extremely chill, and somehow William finds that he’d be happy to spend most of his time on his knees for either of them. Or, if possible, both of them. That’s definitely the plan for tonight, anyway.


	9. Mitch/Willy, Spellwork

“You sure?” Mitch asks. His voice sounds almost too loud over the AC in the empty room, but it’s steady. He sounds confident, determined, which is good - William feels the same. He nods, offering his arm out to Mitch with no hesitation. 

The blade of the knife doesn’t scare him. Blood doesn’t mean to him and Mitch what it might mean to others. It’s not fights or injury. In here, in Mitch’s pristine and characterless hotel room in Florida, sitting naked on the carpeted floor, blood means power, means wanting something so badly you’re willing to give a little bit of your soul for it. 

It’s obvious - this needs to be done and it’s not like anybody else on the team but they can do it. The spell only works if both people performing it genuinely love and care for every single person they’re trying to protect. Perhaps Mitch was the one who originally suggested there is no other choice, but William was more than happy to agree. 

Mitch makes one sharp, shallow cut, just on the side of William’s arm, safely away from his wrist. William gasps despite being ready for it. But the pain is more satisfying than anything, helps push William from weirdly tense to aroused. It’s improbably hot, watching his own blood well up quickly, dark and rich. The room smells like herbs now, the scents almost overwhelming to William. Mitch holds the bowl with the crushed leaves below Williams arm, squeezing gently around the cut until blood flows down William’s skin and into the bowl. 

“Fuck,” William whispers. The fog surrounding his head makes it impossible to think clearly. He watched Mitch repeat the same thing with his own arm, and the might even be hotter. 

“You remember?” Mitch asks, breathless as he reaches for William’s hand. 

William blinks and then nods, realizing Mitch means the spell. He can feel his cock throbbing, need rising in him until he can taste it. The words come clearly to William when he needs them, just appearing on his tongue and his mind despite the delirious state he’s in. He says the heavy latin words and thinks, focuses on everyone he loves on the team; Kappy, and Zach, and Sandy, and Pierre, and Auston, and Freddie - every single one of them. Thinks about them healthy and happy, tries to make the the words he barely understands come to life.

Mitch is casting the spell with him, their voices merging into one. William can tell their breath is synced as well, can imagine their heartbeats might echo each other. The intention behind Mitch’s words as intense as his grip on William’s palms. 

They finish the spell and Mitch takes the small bowl. William can feel it in the air when Mitch drinks from it; need and power buzzing between them. His lips are red and bloody when he finally, finally leans in, his pupils blown black, answering the magic William feels running through him. 

He tastes like sacrifice. Like love.


	10. Freddie/Mitch, clubbing + vouyerism

Wins deserve to be celebrated, especially ones in Toronto and Mitch is keen to follow Auston and Willy to the club, his skin practically itching with excessive energy. He wants to feel the sway and rhythm of strangers’ bodies moving around him, wants to let loose and and let himself be touched and groped, by Willy or Auston, or anyone really. 

He looks at Freddie, and gets a quick approving nod, his eyes dark, mouth stretched into a dry smile that feels promising. Freddie’s in a good mood, Mitch knows, he’s got a shutout tonight, and success always makes him… eager. 

Freddie doesn’t dance, but he follows the three of them to Auston’s car. He’s being stingy, keeps his distance and doesn’t touch Mitch when it’s just the two of them in the back seat, not even casually, not at all. He still looks, a satisfied smirk ever present as he casually chats about something or other with Auston, his eyes sharply focused on Mitch. It always makes Mitch shiver, makes him skin-hungry and a little crazy. 

This is how it always goes; Freddie sitting in the vip section, watching from afar while Mitch lets the alcohol run through his veins and make his body flow and his inhibitions loosen. He doesn’t even need to find strangers to satisfy his need to be touched this time, Auston and Willy bracketing his body from each side.

They’re moving together roughly, hands grasping at each other's clothes, Willy is grinding his cock into Mitch’s ass through their pants and it’s almost good, but it isn’t enough. Mitch gasps in need and frustration, his eyes clamped shut. 

He’s about to say damn it and kiss either Willy or Auston, whoever’s mouth he’ll find first, when his arm is wrenched painfully. Another body, bigger and stronger, body pulling Mitch against itself. 

“You’re such a slut,” Freddie whispers in his ear, his hand sliding into Mitch’s pants, fingers pressing roughly into his cleft. 

Mitch wiggles against Freddie, the words and his touch combine to a heady sensation, almost too much, too fast after he’s been needing it for so long. Freddie doesn’t waste time, though, one finger pressing into Mitch, breeching him roughly and punching the breath out of his lungs.

“We’re in public,” Mitch breathes out, hiding his face against Freddie’s wide chest, Freddie’s grip on his arm almost perfectly painful.

“Be a good whore, Mitchy,” Freddie whispers in his ear. “And I might fuck you later tonight.”


	11. Kyle/Kerfy, losing 6-3

There are things, Kyle knows, that he’s not supposed to do. Leaving in the middle of a game is definitely one of them. Walking into the locker room after a loss is another. It’s not helping anyone, least of all himself, to look like this is bothering him, he doesn’t need his team to feel like they’re questioning his belief in them. He picked them, they’re his. Of course he fucking believes in them.

But some things matter more. 

You’d expect it to be quiet in the locker room, morose, but it’s just the usual hustle and bustle of twenty disgusting athletes getting undressed. There are players, coaches, and support staff all walking around, he can spot some understanding looks, John pats him on the arm, Mitch looks guilty. 

It doesn’t matter. 

Alexander is still getting undressed when Kyle walks in, and it’s easy to ignore everything and everyone and just go to him. Kyle feels stupid sometimes, feels immature - letting himself think with his heart and his dick to this extent. But Alexander smiles when he sports him, wide and genuine even though it’s still a little sad. Kyle wants to kiss all the negativity away from it. 

“Is everything -,” Alexander starts asking. 

“Nothing’s wrong,” Kyle says immediately. He reaches out and wraps his fingers around Alexander’s bare arm. He’s warm, alive, even if he’s sweaty. They don’t do this in public, not even this, not where people can see. Kyle is private and Alexander is too easy-going to fight that, but right now Kyle barely remembers why he can’t let them just have this. 

“Good goal,” he says instead, rubs his thumb gently over the warm skin and soft hairs of Alexander’s arm. 

He doesn’t kiss him, but they both know he wants to.


	12. Auston/Willy, great expectations

It’s a real tragedy, but Auston is not very good at sex.

Hooking up with Auston is so fucking easy. It’s honestly the easiest hookup William’s ever fallen into, and that says a lot because William does not believe he should be putting in effort to get to have sex with someone. Luckily, all it takes is a sly grin a “you wanna?” to get Auston going, and truly, William is very grateful he seems to be as desperate for it as William feels.

It’s not great the first time, because Auston is kind of drunk and gets whiskey dick. 

It’s not much better the second time. Auston kind of comes unexpectedly on William’s favourite jacket before they have a chance to really get going. 

It’s okay the third and fourth time. Orgasms happen, even if they’re not the spectacular kind. Auston runs his mouth on how amazing and tight William is, eyes wide with awe the way only a man in love with someone’s ass can really be.

That’s really kind of sweet of him, but lying in bed next to Auston, decidedly not sweaty or out of breath enough, William is forced to face the sad truth that Auston is just not very good at this. That is, sex. 

And that makes no sense at all. Because Auston has a bomb dick. Seriously, drool worthy, perfect-mouthful, fill-me-up-daddy, of a dick. Which he has no idea how to use. 

“So,” William says, just before they get to the fifth time. His own shirt is mostly unbuttoned while Auston is palming his cock through his pants. “I was thinking -,”

Auston snorts, cocky and sure, and William really wishes that confidence wasn’t empty, because it’s maybe the most attractive thing about Auston. 

He takes a big sigh. “I was wondering if we could try something,” he says. 

Fuck this, he’s going to make Auston the best fucker he’s ever met. They’ll just need to practice. Like probably a lot.


	13. Zach/Willy/Travis, step into my office

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a [Who Treats You Right](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21262814) AU because sometimes I'm extra silly and write AUs to your own AU fanfic.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Travis curses, hands sliding shakily through Will’s hair. His eyes are squeezed shut and the way his legs are dangling from Zach’s desk is almost cute. 

Zach smiles, biting his lower lip. Will is so good at this, taking someone apart with his mouth, and Zach is more than happy to admit he likes seeing him in action. It’s performative, sure, because he’s the type of guy who gets off on being watched, but it’s not fake, it’s real and imperfect and so fucking hot. 

Travis moans, grabbing the edge of the desk. “Oh, fuck, fuck. Zach, please.” 

He’s shivering, his chest flushed adorably and he sounds like he’s desperate already. Zach did not start the night thinking it will end up with Will sucking Travis off in his office, but that’s just how his life is now. Sometimes he forgets how easily Will gets what he wants with him. And he’s wanted to see Zach fuck Travis for a while. 

Zach walks over, pulling Travis’s mouth to his a little more roughly than Travis probably expected, gripping his nape and keeping him in place as he sucks on his lips. 

He can hear it when Will leans back and stops sucking Travis off. “Got bored?” Zach asks, letting go of Travis’s lip with a final bite. Will is looking up, watching them hungrily. 

“I think it’s time you fucked him,” Will shrugs, smiling. Travis moans hiding his face against Zach’s throat. It’s adorable, and Zach runs his fingers through Travis’s hair. 

This might be the stupidest thing Zach’s ever done, but Travis is sweet and loyal. He’s Zach’s, and Zach doesn’t mind admitting he’s hot. 

“You sure?” Zach asks, turning his head to kiss Travis’s temple gently. Travis nods enthusiastically and Willy laughs, satisfied.


	14. Jamie/Tyler, post-apocalyptic future

The farm is quiet. It usually is this time of day; Jordie still upstairs with Jess and the baby, and Jamie’s parents keeping quiet in their room. Jamie is out already, taking care of the cows and chickens, and whatever else he feels needs to be addressed before the crack of dawn.

Which leaves Tyler alone in the kitchen with the dogs, leaning against the wooden table and clutching a mug of Heather’s last attempt at recreating coffee. He’d try to start breakfast, but he’s not really awake enough for that, and it would be a waste of the ingredients. They could spare them, probably, it’s not as bad now as it used to be in the beginning, when they just found the farm and all they had was a broken house and endless fields, farm animals that were even more male-nourished than they were. 

It’s better now, they have eggs and wheat and milk, probably will have meat by next winter too, but Tyler still can’t shake the fear of using up food and starving. There’s a part of him that will forever be stuck in the horror of those first few months, before Jamie’s family got here, before the sky turned blue again; just him and Jamie and the dogs, surviving on nothing but determination and tears. 

The door creaks and Tyler shakes his head, eyes squeezing momentarily to chase the darkness away, to bury that fear deeper, let the reality and serenity of the farm calm him down. Jamie huffs when he comes in, eyes immediately searching Tyler’s. 

“Hey,” he says softly and Tyler smiles, lets the old table take his weight as Jamie leans in to kiss him. 

Tyler runs his hand through Jamie’s hair. It’s long now, even longer than it used to be when they first met. He smiles, unable to not feel fond for the chubby-cheeked boy Jamie used to be. Too awkward and too shy, in awe of this thing that ended up meaning nothing to either of them. Not in the long term.

“Morning,” Jamie says, leaning back. 

Tyler smiles, rubbing his thumb over the warm, slightly sweaty skin on Jamie’s neck. “Mmmm,” he hums. 

“The coffee tastes better today,” Jamie says, planting another short kiss on Tyler’s mouth, his lips stretched in a smile. 

Tyler laughs and the dogs start barking. It’s going to be a good day.


	15. Zach/Willy, teachers au

Zach had his fair share of unfortunate experiences as a teacher; he had once had a kid throw a chair at him, he had a child, a literal child spit on his pants in anger. He once put his mom on speaker dial in front of a class, which was far from a good idea and he lived to tell the tale of Logan M’s dad threatening to punch him after Zach suggested Logan M might be a little too prone to solving problems with his fists. Zach was a history teacher, not a biology one, but that one was clearly a hereditary trait. 

But none of it, as humiliating and mortifying as it was, none of it even came close to being as bad as having his 5th graders spend fifteen minutes fuc– freaking imitating him. 

Everything he did, every sigh and laugh and frown, was immediately repeated and amplified by twenty five eleven year olds. It was annoying, it was infuriating, and there was only one person to blame. 

“William,” Zach says as soon as he walks over to him. It’s good that there’s a recess between the next classes; Zach barely had the self-control to settle the class and continue that lesson, he’s pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to just go one with his day without giving William Nylander a piece of his mind. 

But maybe the middle of the teachers’ lounge isn’t the best place for it, judging by the way Mr. Muzzin looks up from his laptop as soon as Zach says William’s name. 

“William,” Zach repeats quieter, but not less angrily. William turns to look at him, an easy grin playing on his lips. He must know, he must, because no one is that attractive and that good with children, while being unaware. 

“Hey, Zach,” William smiles innocently, as if oblivious to the terror he’s putting Zach through, as if this is something new. 

It’s been this way since the beginning of the year. His 5th graders would always be somehow over-excited, the entire class a mess, whenever he walked in to teach them history on Thursdays. They’d be fine, perfectly normal on Monday and then bam, half the class wouldn’t be able to sit still three days later. 

Two weeks into the year he met the reason, William’s class was running late and Zach walked in to see all the desks pushed aside, all his students running around in circles, William standing in the middle of it all laughing. It was so absurd, the entire thing, the children just running around uncontrollably and William just being there, existing. Zach would probably have scolded him then and there if he wasn’t blindsided by how hot he was. 

Zach is not against drama lessons. He’s not. He’d just wish the lessons weren’t that active. And maybe have someone just a little uglier teaching them. Either of those things would help greatly in preventing Zach from tearing all his hair out in frustration. 

William keeps smiling serenely at Zach. 

“Don’t you ’hey, Zach’ me,” Zach hisses, leaning into William. “My class spent ten minutes repeating every sound I made.”

William blinks. “Huh,” 

“William,” Zach whines, “Come on. Help me here.” 

William scratches the back on his head, frowning. “We were practicing reactions, and I didn’t think - I just told them to notice how animated you are -”

Zach sighs, the fight leaving his body at the way William bites his lower lip. “William.” Zach says, his voice full of reproach and William closes his eyes, looking guilty. 

He can’t help noticing how close they’re standing, how long William’s lashes look from this close. He wants - Zach coughs, leaning back, his cheeks going slightly red, looking over his shoulder to make sure no one caught him almost kissing the drama teacher in the teachers’ lounge.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on twitter! @dharma_club_


End file.
